


Penelope

by agent85



Series: Odyssey [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz pinches the bridge of his nose and stifles a yawn. He has to make progress, and if his brain fries before he gets the prototype to work, yet another day will go to waste.</p><p>Too much time has gone to waste already.</p><p>He didn't open the door for her; that had been ruled out in the beginning. It was physically impossible to open a locked door by leaning on its hinge, anyway. No, it was becoming clearer to him that there were other forces at play, forces he will have to tame if he has any hope of getting her back.</p><p> <br/>A companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4514190">Odyssey</a>, but can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penelope

Fitz pinches the bridge of his nose and stifles a yawn. He has to make progress, and if his brain fries before he gets the prototype to work, yet another day will go to waste.

Too much time has gone to waste already.

He didn't open the door for her; that had been ruled out in the beginning. It was physically impossible to open a locked door by leaning on its hinge, anyway. No, it was becoming clearer to him that there were other forces at play, forces he'll have to tame if he has any hope of getting her back.

"You really think it was opened from the inside?" she asks, and she flashes that smile again, the one that makes the world slow down.

She's a paradox, really. She's a reminder of his goal and a distraction from the panic. She's the one ally he has and the only one he doesn't. 

She's a testament to the clear fact that he can't do anything without her. That it's the piece of her within him that keeps him moving forward.

She stands there, arms folded, and challenges him with a smirk.

It shouldn't make him blush, but it does, anyway.

"Well, uh, we both know that . . ." She takes a step forward, and he once again remembers how much he likes that navy blue top with the white stripes around the collar and down, before he remembers to focus on the task at hand. "Well, you know that it uh, it had to be."

"Yes, but that would mean that the rock opened it. Are you proposing sentience, or are you-"

"Saying that it has to be controlled by something, yes. She, uh, she went into the rock, and she's not there anymore, so she had to go somewhere, and that means-"

"That it's a portal?"

She has a different smile now, the one that says she's proud of him, and she's the only one who is. Everyone else has been showering him with worry and pity, and he can't decide if it's better or worse than the last time she was taken away. Better, he decides. At least now, they're willing to talk to him.

Looking at her smile is like looking at the sun, and he still feels the warmth when he looks away.

"Well, she had to go somewhere. The stone didn't change in mass or weight, and there's no . . . no sign of her when it turns into that liquid-y . . . thing. And you know the first law of thermodynamics."

"No energy in the universe is created and none is destroyed."

He loves the way she says it, but he can't help but chime in on the last part, the way they did before.

"Yes, and that goes for matter, too, so she has to be somewhere."

He feels her hand on his shoulder, and this time her fingers trail down his upper arm and beyond, until her fingers tangle with his. He looks up at her, but she's watching their joined hands.

"It'll be different," she whispers, "when she comes back. Do you think you'll be ready?"

She asks him this all the time, and he asks himself even when she's not there. Is he really ready for a romantic relationship with Jemma? Will he ever be what she needs from him?

And that's assuming that she'll still want him when she comes back, because it's more than likely that whatever she felt could have been snuffed out in the months she's been gone.

"This isn't . . . it, um, it isn't about me," he counters. "It's never been . . . about me. I thought it was, but I was wrong."

She squeezes his hand, offering forgiveness that she can't really give. It reminds him that he doesn't have time for the guilt. Not now. 

"You're a good man, Fitz. I know it, and she knows it. Look at how far you've come already."

Heat shoots through him, and he knows she can see it. "Oh, yeah, well . . . I don't, uh, I don't know. It's, uh, it's you, really. You're . . . you did it. I never could have . . . you know, without you."

A throat clears behind him. "Hey, Fitz."

He jumps at the sound of Skye's voice, and he tries to calm the panic growing within him. Skye doesn't approve of his extra-curricular work, but so far she hasn't told anyone. He has to remember that. 

He turns to meet Skye, and the specter's hand goes with him, giving him strength.

"Coulson has new orders for you." She hands him a folder, and he looks at that instead of the eyes that appraise him. "How's your last project coming?"

"Already done," he answers.

"So this . . ." She gestures at his prototype, and he lets out a sigh.

"You know what it is."

" _Hey_."

She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he feels compelled to meet her gaze. He's surprised by the tears. She's worried about him.

"I have to do it, Skye."

She shakes her head and shuts her eyes.

"It's been months, Fitz. I hate it as much as you do, but she's gone."

He wants to say that he agrees with her. She _is_  gone; nobody can deny that. But Skye (and everyone, really) seems to think that "gone" means "dead." And he can't explain to her that the laws of physics don't allow that, that a good scientists wouldn't assume that. He can only let Skye see the real, irrational reason that he's doing all of this. After all, it's the only reason they've let him get this far.

"Skye," he finally says, "she deserves better than that."

Skye nods then folding her arms like she's trying keep her insides from spilling out.

"Yeah, well," she says, "so do you."

When she leaves, he's truly alone in the lab, and he looks at the prototype with longing as he opens the folder and starts doing his actual job.

It takes him a few days before he can actually test the prototype. He has to wait until the hallways are empty, and right now, everyone is on assignment or asleep. Everyone but Skye, of course, who will probably show up at any moment with tea. She's actually running late tonight, and he wonders if it's because she trusts him, or if she's given up on him like everyone else. At least he's not alone. He never is, when he doesn't want to be.

"So, explain it again," his specter says, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. She wants to make sure he understands it, because his mind has been in a frenzy ever since she left.

"Well, uh, if the stone, or someone behind the stone, reached out and grabbed her, she must have had some quality they're looking for." She's so beautiful that it's hard to get the words out. She stupefies him and makes him smarter; he'll never understand that. "So, assuming that it's automated somehow, we have to . . . simulate her. But we don't know how the stone senses . . . senses things, so I'll have to start with a sample of her DNA and a simulated heartbeat."

It's taken him a week to find the vials from her old blood sample, from before and after the Chitauri virus, and it had nearly ripped him in two just to handle them. He thought he loved her before, when he saw Coulson with Audrey, then realized he was wrong in the pod, and wrong when she left, and when she came back, and when the ceiling fell in, and when she said that she maybe loved him back. And he has been proven wrong every day since she left, because  _this_  is love. Everything that came before was just the beginning.

He puts the vial in the prototype and loves her more than he's ever loved her before, more than he ever thought he could love anyone. Maybe his heart will call out to hers. Maybe that's how she finds him.

It doesn't work the first time, or the second. But he made plans for this, because he has to use Jemma's time wisely. He has enough tweaks planned to last time long after his energy is spent.

Her double stands next to him, encouraging him, telling him stories of how Jemma started to love him back. He'd missed them before, but their story must be in his subconscious somewhere, because she knows every detail. It's like holding a carrot in front of him, and he keeps plodding forward.

It's his twenty-first trial when something must have worked, because the stone rumbles and wretches her out. He stands still, frozen, because he never thought it would happen this way. He thought he'd have to go after her.

She can't be real. Maybe he dreamed up a second one?  He looks around, trying to find and answer and finds only Skye, blinking back at him from the door frame. But this Jemma is a warrior, clad in armor and holding a sword. She's tired, dirty, and magnificent. She's never been more beautiful, and she's looking straight at him.

"Fitz?"

She's real, she has to be, and he's too overcome with panic to remember how to turn the prototype off. He drops it to the floor, and hopes it breaks.

"Jemma."

He's said her name in his sleep, but he's been careful about saying it out loud. Her name is delicious.

He wants to run to her, but what does she want? What does she need?

"Fitz!"

She crashes into him, wrapping herself around him like a warm blanket. He can feel the dirt on her, and he can only imagine what she's been through. But she's here, isn't she? He can keep her safe now. The sword clatters to the ground as she runs her fingers through her hair and this, this is what loving her really means. This is what it is to be loved. This is everything. 

She holds his face in her hands and says, "You opened the portal." Her hands go back in his hair, combing through like she also needs assurances of the reality of this moment. 

"You were looking for me," Jemma whispers.

His eyes had fallen shut, but they snap open. He was willing to rot at the bottom of the ocean for her; how could he ever stop looking?

"'Course," Fitz says, and the tears are coming. "It was  _you_."

_Everything is you_ , he thinks.

She wraps herself around him again, and he could stay like this forever, if she'd let him. He looks over her shoulder, and finds the specter winking away.

"You didn't give up on me, after all this time."

"Jemma," he whispers, "Jemma." He has no other words but the one inscribed on his heart.

"I didn't give up on you, either. I never will."

She pulls back, and he mourns that loss of contact until her lips are on his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, and his lips. He's so shocked at first that he forgets to kiss her back, but he makes up for it. She tastes like hard work and victory. 

"Sorry," she says as she runs a thumb across his cheekbone. "It's been a while and we've never talked about—"

"You apologize too much," he says. 

"Perhaps," she allows, "so you're really . . . Fitz?"

He's crying, and it's the worst time to cry, but she seems to understand. She starts to dry his tears before adding some of her own, and soon he is holding her together while she falls apart.

"Fitz," she says between sobs, "are we going to be alright?"

It's the look in her eyes that stops his heart, because there is no wavering, no maybes. She loves him, and he knows it right down to his bones.

"Yeah," he chokes and this is love, right here, "why don't you put your sword away, and you can rest."

She sheathes her sword, threads her fingers through his, and they are together again.

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
